Darkest Savior
by BonafideAngel
Summary: Aeron, the Keeper of Wrath, was told that he was being watched. By whom? He doesn't know. But, when he meets a deadly woman sent to kill Lucien, he wonders if she is the one? All the pieces seem to fit. The question is: is she friend or foe?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The walls came alive with flickering shadows dancing. Shafts of moonlight shone through the broken ceiling windows. There was a faint smell of rust and metal in the air. Somewhere far away, water dripped. Drip. Drip. Drip. Aside from the deafening sound of the leaky faucet, there was nothing else.

He looked around carefully, as he came to a stop in the center of the abandoned warehouse floor where the majority of the factory's work was done. In front of him laid a dusty belt, scattered with empty cans and tools that had been unused for years.

What a strange place to meet, he thought, glancing at dark corners and shadows that seemed to move.

He waited.

But, not for long.

A silhouette formed before him. First, the shape of a masked head. Shoulders cloaked in black cloth. Torso. Thighs. And finally, a partial view of half of one leg.

"Can I not see the face of my hire?" A cocky smile twitched at his lips.

The shadow did not answer, but studied him with brilliant green eyes, unmoving.

"Well, at least, give me a name." He raised his hands to show that he was harmless.

"The rule is that no one knows my name."

He smiled.

So, a female was what he hired. He hoped he had the right information. Because this female cost him a lot of money. And he did not put a lot of faith in women. They were the things that caused nations to go to war. The things that put him in the position he was in.

"I won't ask again." He stopped when her eyes went down to his hands. "Just wanted to give you the name of my target." When she did nothing, he produced from his back pocket a small little item, and held it out for her. "You know how to use this, right?"

Her green eyes leveled on him. If he could see her face, she was probably smiling behind that mask of hers.

"Don't worry." Her voice was tinted with humor. "Your money is worth it."

"Good." He tossed it at her. Her hand flashed so quickly, he almost thought he imagined it, when the flash stick disappeared in mid-air. "Are you as good as they say?"

A sharp laugh filled the silence briefly. He blinked, and she was gone. Startled, he shuffled into a 360 degree turn and looked for her. She couldn't have gone far. He barely did a half-blink!

But, there was nothing. He saw nothing. Only shadows and silhouettes of things he had already seen when he walked through.

She was good.

He chuckled amusingly to himself, anxious to see what she can do, and started back out the way he came.

Strange place to meet, indeed.

She watched him go. A bemused expression on his perfectly sculpted face. Something about that face was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. It was too perfect; the way his eyes were set, those lips, straight teeth, immaculate skin, almost shiny.

Everything else about him seemed normal. He wore a pair of Levi jeans, and a fitted white polo under a dark blazer. Everything screamed normal about him. Maybe because he was so arrogant, unafraid of meeting her in a dark place. Most likely, he was just another greedy man looking to off somebody who probably slept with his wife. That's how they usually come.

She snickered. Men were so fickle.

Whatever the case. His money was in her bank account. And she had a job to do.

She waited until she could no longer hear his breathing, satisfied that he was off the premises, before she pulled off the mask and looked down at the flash drive in her hand.

"Acquire target." She said to herself, sliding it into her pocket, before whistling a tune and walking in another direction.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

He woke to footsteps pounding outside his bedroom, followed by laughter, and then Anya's delighted screaming. Legion stirred next to him, and reached with a scaly hand to pat him on the shoulder. She sighed when she felt him still there in bed.

He laid there a moment, taking in deep breaths to calm himself.

Ever since the women had moved into their home, nothing was the same anymore. Every morning, he woke up to people who were up at insane hours, moving about, cooking breakfast or talking loudly as if there weren't other people still sleeping. It made him mad. He liked his quiet morning hours, lazing about in the privacy of his own room. To get up when he was ready. Eat when he wanted.

Now, the women demanded that everyone eat meals at the same time every day with everyone present. Like they were some big happy family. Big, yes. Happy, no.

He groaned when a loud knock disturbed his musings. Next to him, Legion hissed.

"Aeron?" It was Gwen, the latest estrogen addition to the big happy family. "Breakfast. Wake up." She knocked again. She won't stop unless he answered.

"I'm up." He said in a rough voice.

"We're all just waiting for you." Her voice faded, as she walked away.

He wished he could tell her to go stuff herself, but it wasn't nice to say that to someone who was just looking out for them. She was nice, timid, and sometimes shy, so it was hard to be upset at her. And if she was upset because she knew you were upset, that Harpy in her was coming out, and it was sight he could do without.

With another groan, he got out of bed and hopped into the shower.

Legion was still sleeping, when he came out, fully dressed in black leather pants and a gray sweater. He smiled at the sight of her peacefully sleeping. The earth could quake, and she would sleep through it. He wished he could do that.

Down in the dining room, everyone was seated in their appropriate places and talking animatedly as if they had been up for hours. Aeron moved to his chair, next to Gideon, and slid in.

"Last one at the table does not get to do the dishes." Gideon smirked at him.

"I always do the dishes anyway." Aeron retorted. Gideon was the Keeper of Lies. Anything that came out of his mouth meant the opposite.

"I wasn't going to volunteer and help you, but since your attitude is so optimistic this morning, the thought hasn't passed." Gideon grinned.

"Well, if only those two sex addicts," Aeron looked pointedly at Anya slinked around Lucien, "kept their antics inside their room instead of racing past mine every morning, I would wake up in a better mood."

"Just because you're not getting some doesn't mean you can take it out on us." Anya teased, and placed a long kiss on Lucien's mouth.

"Get a friggen room!" Aeron grumbled, averting an embarrassed stare at his plate. Those two were unbelievable. Was Lucien on Viagra or something?

"Let's eat, shall we?" Ashlyn, the more responsible of the women, cleared her throat loudly and picked up a plate heaped full of scrambled eggs. "Eggs, anyone?"

All the men, including Aeron, raised their hands, and Ashlyn passed the plate around.

As they ate, they discussed menial things like whose turn was it to go into town for grocery shopping. Who was doing laundry. Were the chores around the house being taken care of?

Torin mentioned that he needed new gadgets to update his security cameras. Aeron heard Paris volunteer to go into town that afternoon to pick up whatever he needed. He knew Paris was going for another reason, and instantly felt sorry for him.

Paris caught his stare, and grinned at him. He nodded once, and focused his gaze on his plate of scrambled eggs, buttered toast, crispy bacon and roasted ham. Sometimes, he still felt strange that everything was happening normally around him. He kept waiting for the moment when things would go horribly wrong. Why was he like that?

Oh yea, he was Wrath. He was alive because of those moments.

It sucked to be him.

Mechanically, he shoveled spoonfuls of food into his mouth. As usual, he would accompany Paris. It was their thing. Paris would go and do what he needed to do, while he moved through town and tried to be inconspicuous as he picked up whatever the house needed him to.

Legion purred approvingly in his ear, and he lifted a sweaty hand to scratch her behind the ears. He looked out again at his work with a pleased smile . It was flawless.

Embedded inside all eight of the wooden beams, strategically placed on the concrete floor to substitute as Hunters, gleamed a shiny knife he had thrown with a cloth over his eyes.

He needed to make use of all of his senses if they were to take down their Nemesis. They had to show no mercy when it came to the Hunters. The Hunters would decapitate them to study them, or to enjoy the pleasure of simply harming them. They would gouge out an eye, and then beat him or his brothers senselessly while they were being tied down.

Like Paris. He still remembered when they took Paris and deprived him of his sustenance. It was hell. And he knew hell.

He had been there, and back.

It made him angry, the thought of being stripped and weak. It was why he had to keep honing his skills, even though being the Keeper of Wrath, he really didn't need to. He could just as easily kill by fighting dirty, by letting his monster, this creature inside of him, take over. It would be a lovely scene, to bathe in Hunter blood and an even more lovelier sonnet to drink the blood straight out of Galen's severed head.

"Be sssssstilllll." Legion breathed into his ear. He realized he was shaking, and immediately calmed himself by shutting up the crazed monster inside of him.

No, he could never let the monster come out fully. It would kill everything in sight. Including his brothers.

"I have to go into town." Aeron petted Legion on the head, as he went over to the beams to pull out the knives. "Gotta pick up a few items for Torin."

"No, I missssss you. Don't go." She curled herself around his neck.

"It'll be quick. Really easy." He went over to the glass cases to put the knives back in there. "I'll be back before you know it. Stay inside, and protect the house, will you?"

He knew giving Legion something gallant to do would appease her worry over him. She worried about him like a daughter worried about their father being gone for so long. He didn't mind it. The attention made him feel useful. Made him feel like there was a purpose to his existence.

This is what Lucien, Reyes, Sabin, and Maddox must feel like, he thought absently, as he clicked the cases shut. Then, brushed the feeling away as quickly as it came.

Liabilities. They were liabilities. Maybe they liked that, but he didn't need anyone dragging him down. Legion uncurled herself and climbed into his arms. He wasn't worried about Legion; the girl had been taking care of herself long before he ever came along.

"I worried." The green, scaly creature looked up apprehensively at him. "Thosssse eyesssss. Sssssssshe watching you."

"You've been saying that for a while now. I don't think it's anything serious." He deposited Legion onto his bed, and began strapping himself with various knives, throwing stars, and pistols. "Maybe she just likes to look at my pretty face." He laughed, as he caught his reflection in the mirror.

Many people were intimidated by him. Mostly, because he was covered in tattoos. One side of his entire face was swirled with intricate black designs, accentuating his high cheeks bones. It appeared from his shoulder and climbed up his neck, as if clawing its way up. A thick tribal line curved around his dark eyebrow, and then swirled out to his temple.

He did look scary. He preferred it that way. People stayed away from him. He did not need liabilities around him when the monster he housed decided to come out and play.

"Pleeeeeaassssse," Legion hopped over to him, and grabbed his hand, "you musssst be careful."

"I always am." He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now, watch the house. I'll be back soon."

While he waited for Paris, he looked out the windows of the large foyer that faced the small town. Set atop a mountain, over trees and small hills, they had a good view. Some would even call it breathtaking.

Especially in the mornings, when he couldn't sleep and stayed up to watch the sun rise, a thick white mist blanketed the treetops. It was like being on a floating cloud, looking down on earth.

On despicable humans.

He shook the thought away. It was Wrath. Wrath was itching to come out. He had subdued Wrath for too long now. They hadn't made much progress on the search for Pandora's box.

Hunters were getting smarter, going underground to conduct their inhumane work. It was harder to find them now. They knew Aeron and his brothers were after them.

Some days, he would look at the humans around him and wonder if they were Hunters. It was hard to tell. So, he was always on edge. He couldn't trust anyone. Would not allow himself to do that.

So, he had to distance himself as much as possible. If the Harpy that came out of Gwen was scary, he was the manifestation of the ultimate nightmare.

"Can we not fly into town this time?" Paris' smooth voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned from the window.

Paris smiled charmingly at him. He was happy to see his friend looking healthy again. It was certainly a trial to stand by and watch Paris go through what he had to go through. It was painful to watch, but he was the last person to give a lecture. That, he saved for Lucien.

"Fine. But, we take my bike."

"I guess that's better than flying." Paris fixed his blond hair. He was very good-looking. Sometimes, it was too much to look at him. Everything about Paris was perfect, unlike him. Where he was dark, Paris was light.

"You're lucky I'm in a semi-good mood." Aeron pushed himself away from the window, and they both walked through the many rooms to get to the underground garage.

"If you call brooding a semi-good mood." Paris flipped on the lights.

Florescent lighting flooded the cavernous room that was their underground garage. It was about 200 feet into the earth, purposely built that way for transportation to get in and out of their house easily. They couldn't very well have a driveway leading up to their front doorsteps.

Aeron walked down the row where he kept his collection of motorcycles. They gleamed up at him, as he passed, tempting him to pick them. Paris followed quietly. The only sounds were their boots shuffling the cement floor.

To the other side of his motorcycles were flashy sports cars, courtesy of Paris. Like his perfect, unintentional flashy self, Paris liked ostentatious cars that showed off their beauty in the form of BMWs, Benz, Ferraris, and Corvettes.

Another row displayed a mixture of new and a vintage trucks. The vintage trucks were mostly for show, while the newer ones, like the Hummer H3 Sabin recently acquired, were used for their daily excursions.

Others vehicles, like the more modest Audis, Volvos, Hondas, were parked neatly by the garage entrance because they were utilized the most by the women and the brothers.

Aeron stopped in front of a black Honda NT700V. It was a model that wasn't slated to be released for another few years, but since he was persuasive with money, the company sold him one. He had only ridden it twice.

Behind him, he heard Paris let out an approving whistle.

"She's a beauty." Aeron agreed, as he grabbed the key from a case hooked on the wall. "She rides like the wind."

Paris laughed, as he waited for Aeron to mount the bike, and climbed on behind him.

"Only you would call a motorcycle a girl."

"A motorcycle doesn't talk back." Aeron turned the key, and the bike let out a smooth purr.

"You have a point." He felt Paris lean into him, as they prepared for the ride.

The garage doors opened abruptly, and they both turned to find Lucien and Amun coming towards them. Amun was as stiff and quiet as he always was, while Lucien looked peeved.

"Grocery shopping duty?" Aeron said, and watched as Lucien and Amun climbed into a silver Audi.

Amun nodded, his expression unreadable.

"Let's get this over with." Lucien sighed, as he started the engine. "I'd much rather be inside plotting the deaths of Hunters, but I lost the bet to Anya. She was supposed to do grocery shopping."

"Sneaky." Paris commented, and slid off behind Aeron, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm going with them. You ride like a bad ass. It's scary."

Aeron grinned.

"Race ya." And he jerked the bike into motion, leaving behind a trail of burnt tire smoke.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter**

It wasn't hard to miss them. They came into town at the same time, every Wednesday. Though she never knew where they came from. The telltale signs were usually when people started murmuring about angels walking among them. All she had to do was look, and there they were.

Budapest was full of beautiful people. It was as if you had to be born with a certain set of traits to be considered Budapestians. They were tall, richly tanned, silky black hair, with hazel eyes. It was easy to tell the tourists from the locals, and the locals from the out-of-towners.

She didn't exactly fit in, but then again, she didn't exactly stand out either. She made herself inconspicuous enough to appear unimportant. Aside from the hazel eyes and dark hair, she would almost fit in, except she was too pale. She didn't like tanning.

She shifted in her booth, positioning herself to face the window so she could see them when they walked by. She knew it was deviating from her job, but if there was good eye candy to appreciate, she was going to appreciate.

The first time she had seen them, there were only two. They caused quite a stir. People around her muttered talk of angels and demons. When the busy crowd in the street parted for them to come through, she couldn't have been any more on the dot about the description.

She pegged the multihued brown-black haired man as the angel. He had a very handsome and charming face. Aqua blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires in the sun. His skin was so pale, she figured he hated tanning as much as she did. He stood a good two feet taller than everyone else. Impressively dressed, always in black slacks, and a colored shirt.

Now, the demon. He was more interesting to look at. She noticed his tattoo right away. The one that covered the entire right side of his face. It was tribal, probably ancient Mayan-inspired judging by the sharp lines and curves. She had an inkling the tattoo on his face didn't just end there. On his left eyebrow, two rings glinted.

He walked with a deadly swagger that seemed to say 'mess with me, and you'll regret it'. He never smiled, never tore away his gaze which was always placed in front of him. If he had laser eye beams, they would mark a straight line from his foot to his destination.

This one, people feared. They put distance between themselves and him. And he didn't even care. He carried on as if they didn't exist, while the other one oozed charisma. She was even surprised when several women threw themselves onto his path.

Sometimes, they traveled in packs of four or five. She was beginning to think they were brothers or something, considering their similar heights and body builds. They came into town to do their business, and then left as quickly as they came. Suddenly, people talked about them, and then just as suddenly, people didn't.

It was very unusual, and piqued her interest.

First, she needed to complete her job, then she could pursue these angels and demons at her own leisure. If anything, they were just interesting to watch. Eye candy always made the job a little more fun.

As they erupted from the crowd like dolphins breaking through the ocean's surface, she very nearly had an orgasm.

"This just got even more fun." She said to herself quietly, and swiftly got out of the booth.

As much as Aeron hated coming into town, it was a necessity that could not be avoided. A long time ago, he loved the town and the people in it. But, that no longer held true to him.

Humans were chaotic and complicated by nature. His demon fed off their energies. It made him antsy, and he hated the feeling. It meant he had to figure out a way to sate the demon until they could move in on their next planned kill.

He could never get used to their invasive stares. They gawked and pointed. He could hear them praying for mercy whenever he passed. He didn't understand why humans were so conflicted about the sight of him; they were awed by him for some reason, and then they were frightened to death of him.

He didn't consider himself cute, or amiable like Paris. Or like Lucien who smiled kindly at everybody, even though sometimes they muttered curses under their breaths at him. Even Amun, who never said a single word, who wouldn't harm a kitten, received better praises than he did.

Sometimes, he wanted to whip out his massive wings and scare the hell out of them just for the heck of it.

It would make him laugh, and he would feel better.

He watched a couple stumble away from them as they approached. They whimpered under his imploring glare, and averted their eyes. Yea, you better, he thought, as they scurried away.

The back of his neck prickled. He felt a stare burning through his head, and whipped around towards his brothers, sensing a foreboding. As he did so, he thought he saw the face of a beautiful woman pressed up against the window of the coffee shop across the street, staring at him.

_ Ssssshe watching you, _he heard Legion's whisper. He blinked, and she was gone. Damn, he thought, as he shook himself, I need to calm down. Can't let this demon get out.

"I'm gonna pick up the chips." Aeron announced, and stopped in front of a computer store.

Paris nodded, but he was focused on a woman who was eyeing him.

"We'll get the groceries." Lucien gestured with his head at Amun. "Meet you guys back here in an hour."

"That's all I need." They heard Paris say, as he made a beeline for the voluptuous redhead whose eyes lit up at seeing him project himself towards her.

Aeron felt a twinge of jealousy at the woman's reaction, and tore his gaze away. He reminded himself that no human could handle him, and that made him feel slightly better.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with an hour?" He muttered, as he pushed open the door into the computer shop.

A man in gold-rimmed spectacles behind the counter regarded him with wonder.

"Hello, sir, what can I do for you?" He folded his hands together over the smooth counter top.

"I'm just picking up some items. Torin should've called you about them."

"Ah yes!" The man snapped his fingers. "I'll have those ready for you in a minute."

"Take your time." Aeron replied dryly. He turned to face the busy street, and leaned against the counter with one hip. He could see Paris escorting the dazed woman into an inn. Lucien and Amun were headed farther up the street.

He didn't like the feeling of someone watching him. Staring and gawking at him, that was fine. But watching, that made him nervous. More than nervous, it made him angry. Whoever was _watching_ did not have the nerve to face him.

Was it that face he thought he saw? Did he even see anything? He could've sworn there was a woman standing at that window, but the second he blinked, she was no longer there.

Maybe it was his imagination. Or the need to quench his demon's thirst trying desperately to rile him up. He made a promise to his demon, anything to shut it up, that he'd have a go at one of the prisoners in the dungeon. His demon seemed to accept it, and went dormant.

He could hear the old man rummaging in the back, humming to himself. He drummed his fingers against his thigh, where a belt hid several throwing knives.

A commotion caught his attention. He watched as people scattered quickly to the sides, pressing themselves against the buildings. It came from the direction where Lucien and Amun had gone. This was not good.

"I have it right here." He heard the old man say, coming out from the backroom. "Hey! Don't you want it?"

"I'll be right back for it." He said over his shoulder, as he ran out the front door and knocked some people off their feet. He hesitated over drawing his weapon, unsure if this upheaval had anything to do with his friends. He didn't want to have to come back and wipe away their memories.

Instead, muttering a slew of curse words, he pushed people running down the street out of his way. He didn't care if the force sent them flying in every which direction. If Lucien and Amun were in trouble, he just couldn't care about human fatalities. He dodged out of a pregnant woman's way, and almost ran into a kid.

"Move!" He shouted, and the kid burst into tears. "Goddamnit!"

As the crowd dispersed upon seeing him, he saw Amun on the ground, sputtering blood from a gash on his forehead that was starting to heal. He bent down and quickly scanned Amun's body for any other wounds. There were severe slashes on his forearms, obviously from blocking the blows. Another large slash across his chest revealed muscled sinews underneath, and Aeron winced. He pulled out a throwing star that was rooted in Amun's stomach, and tossed it aside, as a spurt of blood shot up from the injury.

Amun shook his head, as the cuts on his body started to close. It wouldn't take long for Amun to heal.

"Lucien?"

Amun jerked with his head towards the mass of people scrambling to get out of the way, and Aeron shot to his feet, as Lucien's body flew towards them. He caught Lucien before the impact would've knocked them both on their backs.

"Aeron." Lucien gasped, gripping his arm, as he wheezed. The handle of a knife stuck out from his chest, where a pool of blood soaked through his shirt. He suffered similar wounds that Amun had, mostly knife wounds that left flesh split open, and blood pouring out.

Blood. So much blood.

Wrath clawed desperately to get out. His chest hurt, suddenly. He felt like all of his insides were being crushed together.

"I'll make them pay." Aeron promised through gritted teeth. He pulled the knife out, knowing it was going to hurt like a mother. But, he had to do it, or else Lucien wouldn't be able to heal properly. Lucien tried to muffle a cry as the blade scorched against his already torn flesh.

All around him, Aeron could hear screams of terror. Smell blood. Taste chaos.

Something whizzed towards him, and he looked up in time to see the flash of a dagger twisting, tip, hilt, tip, hilt, straight into his face. He raised an arm, and felt the knife pierce his skin, and shatter bone. He could've avoided it, dodged out of the way, but that meant the knife would only find a home in another human body. A body that could not heal the way his could.

He lowered his arm, and all that stood in front of him was a figure dressed entirely in black. The only thing visible that indicated he was dealing with a person, and not some foreign creature, was a slit across the eyes, revealing a flash of green. He tore the knife out, not caring about the blood dripping down his arm, and stood up to his full height.

The figure didn't move, but watched him with expressionless eyes. He saw their hands move, in a blur of motion, and in the next instant, their hands wielded two curved blades. He recognized them as scimitars, used in the far Eastern lands for the bloody slaying sort. That would explain the numerous slashes Lucien and Amun received.

They were quick, but were they quick enough for a bullet? He felt a surge of revenge course through him, glancing down at his bloodied friends writhing in pain from the healing process. They were immortal, and could heal fast, but it didn't mean the healing process was easy. It hurt just as much as being pierced by a bullet, or slashed with a knife.

He whipped out the semi-automatic pistol strapped under his sweater, aimed at the unmoving figure, and fired. Three times. Take that, fucker, he wanted to shout.

He didn't know whether to be impressed or horrified when the figure stepped to one side for the first bullet. Flipped in a fancy cartwheel over the second bullet, and dodged the third with a flexible backward bend at the waist. All of that took less than one second.

He fired again, rushing towards them, dispensing all of his rounds, while the person effortlessly dodged the flying bullets. Luckily, people had some sense to move out of the way, as the bullet shells left neat dusty holes in the concrete building several feet behind.

This was pissing him off. He chucked the gun, and threw the small throwing knives, rushing at an alarming speed. The figure merely deflected each knife with a swish of the scimitars, and his knives fell pathetically to the ground.

As he reached them, he unsheathed the short sword fastened to his back, and swung it down. Metal clashed against metal, as the deadly scimitars blocked his sword in a cross above their head. His blow was meant to cut straight through. With a frustrated groan, he pulled his sword and twisted his entire body around to slice off their head with a mighty swing of his arm. He only managed to go off balance as they blurred out of view.

What the heck was that? He recoiled, and looked about, only to fall on his knees as he watched the two curved blades slide through his chest from the back. A torrent of blood gushed out. He hissed when the blades were pulled out roughly from behind.

It was time to let the demon out.

He heard the figure let out a surprised yelp, heard the thump of their body hitting the ground, as his wings burst out from under his flesh. His leather-like wings spread out, spanning around him protectively, and he turned slowly to face his enemy. His eyes had turned red, all he could see was red, as his gaze zoned in. The demon let out a satisfied howl.

There were more cries and screams of terror, as people ran for cover and the street became immediately deserted. He knew he must looked horrific, but it didn't matter. He was beyond pissed off. He could see Lucien and Amun struggling to get to their feet. He hoped Paris could get to them on time.

"This is very interesting." He heard the figure say in an amused female pitch.

Wait, this was a woman? Some part of his brain tried to make a logical argument, as he glared at the masked female. She raised her scimitars defensively in front of her, eyeing him as well.

It didn't matter. She attacked his friends, and stabbed him with her swords. Clearly, this was a woman who wanted them dead. He let out a violent roar and paced towards her.

She backed away, one foot after the other, careful not to make any sudden movements. She had never seen anything like this. She didn't know what he, or it, was capable of.

One moment, he was this normal person, as normal as he can be with a heavily tattooed face and bearing lethal weaponry. The next, he was a depraved winged beast, eyeing his next piece of morsel. Which, unfortunately, was her. And she was not going to go down, just because he took her by surprise with this transformation of his.

She knew when to retreat and reload, and when to take a stand. This was not one of them. The other two men whom she had taken down, were already standing up. She could feel their presences behind her. Being surrounded by a beast and two people, who obviously weren't humans since they were not bleeding to death on the ground, her odds were to dip while she can.

Sheathing the blades, she turned to make a run for it. She'll need to expend all of her energy to disappear so the winged bat wouldn't be able to catch her. But, just as she whizzed past the startled brothers, she felt fingers dig into her shoulders, and saw the ground distance under her feet.

She muffled a painful scream as clawed fingers penetrated her flesh, felt the blood seep down her chest and back. He was taking her higher and higher up into the blinding skies of blue and white. She could see nothing but treetops at her feet.

The thought of being dropped some thousand feet above the ground made her panic, and she gripped at his wrists, not daring the idea of slicing his hands off even though she fancied it for a brief moment. She liked being on her feet better than dropping like a sack of potatoes from the sky.

She had no idea where he was taking her, as she watched the town turn into a tiny speck of dot. And still, he flew higher and higher. With every beat of his wings, the air stirred viciously around her.

He went for some miles before she spotted a looming castle. It sat on top of a mountainous cliff, hidden and shrouded in hills and trees. Then he veered sharply to the left, dropping at an uncomfortable angle, and she cried out as her body jerked and new skin tore under his clawlike hands.


	4. Chapter 3

Paris struggled his way into the sea of frenzied locals and tourists. They pushed, shoved, and kicked away from the street he had just come from, screaming and crying as they passed.

He finally broke through the madness and into an empty street where he had just left his friends to go after the redhead. His groin jerked in reaction at the thought of her waiting for him, and he cursed a thousand oaths at his bad luck. He barely got her pants off, before he heard people shouting outside the inn window.

It meant only one thing. Hunters.

He reluctantly left her, thrashing and contorting, yearning for his touch, and raced out the inn where he was met with a tumble of people.

Lucien was helping Amun to his feet when he saw them. Seeing that they didn't seem to be hurt in any way, he slowed down and looked around at the damage in confusion.

There were no dead bodies.

Just pools of blood on the cobble stones. He hoped it wasn't his friends' blood, because that was a lot he was seeing. He recognized Aeron's abandoned pistol and bent to pick it up. It was empty. He hitched it into the belt loop of his back jeans.

More of Aeron's weapons were scattered on the ground. He picked up each black throwing knife and inspected it. There were indentations on the blades and cross guards. Other than that, none of it drew blood or made contact. He slid those into his leather belt as well, knowing that Aeron would probably like his knives back.

Off to one side was the short double-edged sword Aeron kept strapped on his back at all times. Shaking his head at Aeron's negligence, Paris noted the criss-crossed dent on one edge of the blade before sliding it into a leather sheath, wondering offhandedly how the impenetrable blade managed to sustain a dent.

"What happened here?" Paris asked when he got to them.

Amun made a sound like a snicker, and looked agonizingly at their surroundings. He was limping on one leg, where blood soaked through his khakis on the inner thigh.

Lucien heaved a sigh before replying.

"I was attacked."

"Hunters?"

"No, I don't think so." Lucien scrubbed a hand over his face. There was blood on his hands. "He… she… it… didn't move like a Hunter."

"He? She? It?" Paris turned and saw the bullet holes in the concrete. He counted 17. That meant whatever had came after them was able to dodge the entire clip of Aeron's gun. "What are you talking about?"

"It came out of nowhere." Lucien loped an arm around Amun's waist to help him ease the weight off his injured leg. "It just attacked me."

"If it's not a hunter, then what is it? Did you get a good look at the face?"

"Do you think I would call it an it if I did?" Lucien regarded him with a droll stare. "I'm telling you, it came out of nowhere. It was all dressed in black. It wore a mask over its mouth. I only saw its eyes."

"Are you talking about a ninja?" This time, it was Paris who looked at him with the amused lift of an eyebrow.

"I don't know. It sure fought like one."

"Well, where is it then?"

"Aeron."

"Aeron what?"

"Aeron flew off with it."

"Why would he do that?"

"It pissed him off." There seemed to be a hint of admiration in Lucien's voice. "Aeron couldn't get a hit in. I've never seen anything like it. Never seen anything move so fast."

"It's folklore." Paris dismissed the suggestion with a shrug of his shoulder. "I hope Aeron remembers to save some of it for interrogation."

"He knows better. I need to know why I was attacked." Lucien replied, exasperated and raked another look over the aftermath. "We'll need to get the others here. Wipe out some memories. Will you remind Torin to wire some money into the Mayor's account? This street needs a major overhaul."

Paris lifted Amun's other arm over his shoulders.

"Agreed."

Together, they walked Amun back to the Audi.

She could see jagged mountains forming. They had flown right past the castle and beyond it where the trees grew thicker and the hills turned rocky and clustered into gigantic mountains. Suddenly, he swooped down, and she tightened her hold around his wrist.

They were barely a few feet from the ground, when he heaved her across the flat pane of dirt. Pebbles dispersed as she tumbled to the ground. She rolled over a few times, and onto one knee, staring contemptuously at him when he landed gently on his feet.

His glossy wings flapped once, twice, and then furled behind him and disappeared. She figured it rolled back into his flesh, becoming one with his body. His sweater had been ripped apart when his wings decided to make an appearance.

In the midday sun, his chest gleamed with a sheen of sweat. She smiled self-righteously. She knew he had more tattoos. His entire torso was covered with tribal ink, synonymous with the ancient Mayan markings on his face.

They stared at each other in the distance.

She didn't dare move, since now she knew he could fly faster than she could bat an eyelash.

Aside from the lavender glow of his irises, he looked normal again, albeit, better looking up close and personal. Though, not the kind of close and personal she would have liked under other circumstances.

"Take off your mask." He demanded in a rough voice. A voice that meant business.

Her eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Tell me your name first."

"I said, take off your mask." He took a menacing step towards her, and his irises flashed red.

She stayed put, unnerved.

"It's an even trade. Your name. My face."

Did this woman know how much shit she was in? He wondered ludicrously. Who was she to bargain when her life was about to end?

"Aeron. Now, your face." So, I can look into the horror as I tear you apart, limb from limb, his demon slurred drunkenly, anticipating it.

Casually, she pulled down the black cloth that covered her nose and mouth, and then brushed off the hood over her forehead, swinging her head once so that her short black hair swirled and settled around her shoulders.

She smirked at him.

Stunned, his demon said nothing. Did nothing. Just seconds ago, it wanted to pick her flesh off, then break her bones, and finally still her heart. Now, it was just as shocked as he was.

She had the most exquisite face he had ever seen. A flawless creamy in skin color. Deep set green eyes stared out at him under long dark lashes that cast shadows on her high cheekbones. She had a small nose that was in perfect proportion to her face. And a pink mouth that was twisted in a way that both irritated and taunted him simultaneously.

She watched as he studied her face. She always liked this part. And not because she was vain or conceited. People told her she was beautiful all the time, but she never cared about her looks, only when they elicited distress upon figuring why a person with her beauty did such dirty work. It was a pleasure to witness the mixed emotions that overcame them.

"I prefer to keep my mask on in the presence of people trying to kill me." She smiled sweetly, and started to put the hood over her head.

"Keep it off." He growled, and she let her hands fall with a dainty shrug of her shoulders. "Besides, you're the one trying to kill us."

"You're only casualties." She moved to sit on her butt, and crossed her legs under her.

Casualties? That was a word he used often to refer to people who happened to be in the line of fire. People he didn't really care about, or would forget about. If they didn't die then, they would die later, whether by his own hand or the work of a greater force. Everybody was a casualty.

"What do you mean?" He watched tensely, as she picked up a small stone, threw it in the air, and caught it.

"Nothing." She looked around. "What do you plan to do with me?"

Well, he was planning to kill her. Hunter or not, she had hurt his friends, intended on killing them. Tried to kill him. His demon had cried for it, but now, his demon was being strangely quiet and that made him uneasy.

"First, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer all of them. Second, my friends, the ones whom you slashed to pieces, they'll want some answers too. Third…" Aeron smiled, baring his teeth, "if you be nice, I might let you live. In a dungeon, for the rest of your remaining life."

"Mm." She threw the stone into the air again, and caught it quickly. A quick blur of her hand, her eyes locked on him. "Sounds really nice and all." Another throw, another catch. "Here are my terms. First, I don't have to answer any questions. Second, I only need to meet your one friend. The one with the blue and brown eyes? Yea, that one. Third, I am always nice."

"What do you want with Lucien?"

"It's not what I want. I'm just doing a job."

"You're an assassin."

"Very perceptive of you." She gave him another sweet smile. "But, I've also been keen of you and your brothers. What exactly are you?"

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Even trade, friend. You know I'm an assassin."

"Life isn't fair."

She laughed, a melodic sound.

"At least we agree on one thing." She picked up another stone, and tossed that one into the air as well, her gaze never leaving his. "Tell me, Aeron. What are you?"

Wrath roared inside of him. A bellow that deafened his ears, made them feel like they were bleeding. Instinctively, he reached for his ears and was relieved that they weren't bleeding. His demon had never reacted that way before.

When he looked over at her again, she was on her feet, and coming straight at him were small stones she was hurling with unimaginable speed. Stones that she was nonchalantly playing with, as if she was a kid bored with time. He should've never underestimated her.

His gossamer wings exploded from his back and curled around him as a shield. The stones hit against them, and dropped to the ground. Some managed to nick it, blood formed into a bubble at the puncture and left a thin trail as it slid down.

Suddenly, the assault stopped. Aeron pulled his wings away from his face with a snap. She was gone. Damn it, she was gone! This time, he let a deafening roar rip through the air, as he flung himself off the mountain.


	5. Chapter 4

She was crazy to plunge off that mountain. Crazy out of her mind! She laughed quietly to herself as she swung off one branch to another, keeping an eye on the shadow of his wings weaving in and out of the treetops.

He was looking for her. He had no idea he was leading her straight to their home base, which if she suspected right, he would be heading there right now to tell them of Lucien's assassination.

Keeping silent, and knowing that stealth was her greatest cover right now, she stuck to the shadows, jumping swiftly off tree trunks, hurling herself at branches and flipping over obstacles with a speed that defied all laws of nature. All the while, she kept out of Aeron's range.

She was headed for the castle they had passed by earlier. She had only one more chance to do this. If Lucien found out about the assassination, he might go into hiding and she would have to wait a long time for him to make another appearance. It was by some luck, he showed up in town the way he did that morning.

She had little patience. She was known to go in swiftly and to take out the target cleanly. What happened at the Square in town that morning was a mistake. She had not expected Lucien's friends to jump in and protect him. She had a clear shot, but when the tall dark man blocked her view right as she threw the shuriken, she knew the assignment had taken a turn for the worse.

She waited another few minutes after Aeron disappeared into the castle on top of the mountain, before she slid her hands into a pair of gloves with a row of sharp spikes laid over the palms. She took a few steps back, and then launched herself at the mountain with her palms spread.

She heard the crunch of rocks as the spikes lodged neatly into them. Pausing momentarily, she wiggled her hands to test the hold. She couldn't help but smile. Man, she was good. Assured, she scaled the wall of stones in quick strides.

Anyone who happened to look up would not be able to see her. She stuck to shadows and crevices.

Aeron found that everyone had gathered in the large meeting room. He had toweled himself clean of blood and sweat, and was pulling on a black T-shirt when he entered. The room was tense with emotions, anger and confusion. Lucien, Amun and Paris must've already delivered the news.

Lucien stood up, alarmed, when he saw Aeron. This caused Anya to stand up too, her eyes glaring daggers at him.

"Where did you take my assailant?" Lucien asked.

"I lost her." Aeron pulled out a chair and sunk into it. He was feeling shitty about that. He should've never let his guard down.

"Her?!" Paris demanded. "First, you say it's a ninja, and now it's a her!?"

"She's coming after you, Lucien." Aeron looked at Lucien, who kept his features composed while everyone around him either gasped or fell back into their chair. "She admits to being an assassin."

"Why is she after Lucien?" Anya wanted to know.

Aeron shook his head.

"I couldn't get the answer out of her. She wouldn't say."

"Oh, I'll get it out of her!" Anya seethed, her nostrils flared angrily, as she tried to take in breaths to calm herself.

"Where did you take her?" It was Ashlyn. "Maybe you can take me there, and I can try to pick up on her."

"No." Maddox wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "You will do no such thing."

"But, Maddox, I can help!"

Lucien raised a hand to silence them, and the room became quiet. He wanted to know why he was being targeted as much as they wanted to get their hands on her. He was still reeling from the fact that it was a woman who had fought so eloquently against him. A deadly one, at that. He might not have stood a chance if Amun hadn't seen her, and stepped up to block the incoming shuriken that was aimed for his head.

"Did you get her name, at least?"

Aeron hung his head down, resigned.

"No. She was too fast for me. We had a 5-minute conversation, and next thing I knew, she was gone."

"Like, she didn't just disappear?" Gideon snapped his fingers.

"I don't know how she did it." Aeron shrugged. The longer he sat here having this discussion, the shittier he felt about failing his family and friends. The intent was to torture answers out of her, but when he saw her face, Wrath had stilled so quietly, it was scary. "I don't know what else she's capable of, but I fought her. She is extremely talented at her skill."

"Yea," Paris piped in from the other side of the table. A smug grin on his face. "I saw all of your weapons on the ground. From the looks of it, you didn't even nick her."

"Let's see you try." Aeron leveled a steely glare at Paris.

"Oh, I will not only nick her. I will rip her throat out and feed it to the Hunters!" Anya swore, pounding a fist into the table. Lucien took her hand into his.

"Everyone, listen, we don't know enough about this assassin. I don't know why I'm being targeted. But, we need to put our brains together for this."

"Is Torin keeping watch on the security cameras?" Kane looked pointedly up at a camera hidden in the corner of the meeting room.

The intercom crackled and Torin's voice came on.

"No security breach at this moment." He confirmed, and a sigh of relief passed the room.

"You said that she's fast?" Sabin leaned forward on the table. "Is she faster than Gwen? Could she be a Harpy from a different clan?"

"I don't think she is a Harpy." Lucien nodded contritely at Gwen sitting by Sabin. "She was methodical, she knew what she was doing. I watched Aeron empty his clip. Not a single bullet hit her. She just simply moved out of the way." He shook his head, daunted. "Who could dodge bullets like that?"

"So, we don't sit around and don't wait for her?" Gideon snickered.

"That's all we can do right now. If I know assassins, she'll make her move the moment our guard is down."

"What does she look like?" Paris glanced at Aeron. Aeron was staring unseeingly at the table in front of him. He knew Aeron was feeling bad about having lost her. If anyone liked keeping prisoners, it was Aeron. Torture was his thing. "Aeron, did you get a look at her face?"

Aeron raised his face to look at them.

"Yes." She looked like an angel, but he wasn't about to say that. "Green eyes. Short, black hair. 5 feet 10 inches. 125 pounds."

They mulled over this bit of information quietly. That didn't give them very much. Practically everyone in Budapest looked like that. Was she even from Budapest? If not, where did she come from? Why was she after Lucien? And most importantly, who sent her?

"That's good to know." Lucien finally said. "We'll go into town to scout for her. I'm sure she's nearby, as I am still alive. Right now, however, we have some memories we need to wipe clean of this incident. Strider, Paris, and Reyes, I'm sending you to the Square to take care of this."

"I'm on it." Paris scooted out of his chair. He hadn't finished his job, and needed that to be subdued as quickly as possible. He was antsy, which Lucien must've noticed. Strider and Reyes got up as well.

"Torin?" Lucien looked directly up into the camera.

The intercom clicked on.

"Yes?"

"Did you wire the money already?"

"It's already in the account. The Mayor has some questions about that."

"I'll talk to him." Lucien waved at Aeron, Sabin, and Gideon. "You three head back out and scour the town for my assassin. Bring her back alive."

"Saw off an arm, if you can." Anya shouted after them, as they filed out the door. Gideon waved with a salute to the call. She turned to Lucien, and demanded, "What are we going to do?"

"We wait." He looked at the others in the room. "We just continue on with life as usual, and we wait."


	6. Chapter 5

The climb up the mountain took her about an hour. Not bad, considering that she wasn't familiar with the fissures and footholds and the fact that the mountain was larger than it really looked. She encountered no problems on the way, but that didn't mean anything.

She paused, waiting. Listening. And then slowly, she peeped over the top. First, she saw massive tree trunks clustered tightly together. They emerged from the ground like pikes, and disappeared into the skies. Whoever lived here clearly did not like visitors.

She smiled, as she hefted one knee cautiously over, especially unannounced visitors. Once she was on her feet, she noticed the sandy dirt and crumbling stones and rocks on the ground. Hardly any grass grew here.

The base of the castle, or rather, now that she was seeing it clearly, the fortress was about twenty paces away. Neat hedges of bushes curled around the foundation, and lush green vines grabbed at the walls.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but she knew better than to causally walk up to the building. The first lesson she learned was, never underestimate your target. She didn't just accept any job because it was easy work.

She bent her knees into a crouch, and then with all of her strength, pushed off the ground into the air, did a neat flip and grabbed at a branch, before swinging her body over once into a squat.

The only thing that moved to indicate any intrusion was the slight sway of the tree, but even that could be mistaken for a bird taking off its perch. At first, she didn't see anything, but as she did a quick glance around, she noticed the cameras, the thermo sensors, and the traps.

She sat back on her heels, and looked at the fortress. What was inside that required such a set-up?

By the time Lucien got off the phone with the Mayor, he was exhausted. The Mayor seemed confused that he was offering money to rebuild a ruined street that he believed had nothing to do with them. Of course, he was going to believe they had nothing to do with it; all of their memories were erased. He applauded Paris, Reyes and Strider for that.

Convincing the Mayor that the money was from the good of his heart, a charitable donation to a city he loved made the Mayor go into a long conversation about showing more face in public so the citizens can show proper appreciation.

And that was a conversation he could do without.

If he even agreed to show his face in public, most people shuddered at the sight of him. The scars on his face weren't exactly pretty.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he went in search for Anya. She was probably in the shooting range, taking out her rage. She hadn't reacted well when he told her he didn't want her to have any part in the search for his assassin. When she ignored him, he threatened to kick William out of the house, and though she hated it, she complied.

He walked through the entertainment room and found Ashlyn and Danika in there, watching 'Lilo & Stitch' with Ashlyn and Maddox's new 5-month old baby girl. They waved at him as he strolled by, and he smiled.

He found William in the other entertainment room, watching a porn flick with the sounds of moans and rabid breathing bouncing off the walls. He stopped and watched for a quick second, wondering why William just didn't take up a partner instead of subjecting himself to this crap. He wouldn't believe it that William needed to bed the entire female race. He just needed to find the right one.

As if sensing him, William swiveled in the recliner and grinned at him. Lucien arched an eyebrow at the bleeding slashes on his open chest, but didn't care to ask. William was strange in nature, and it was always better to leave it alone. Besides, they were small wounds, William was immortal, he'd heal by the end of the night.

"Wanna join me?"

"No." Lucien rolled his eyes, and pushed off the door frame. "You know we have a kid in the house, right?"

"She's only a baby. She won't remember any of this." William bent down to pick up the remote and lowered the volume. "Besides, I believe in starting them out young. Educate them."

"I don't understand that," Lucien held up a hand when William opened his mouth, "and I don't want to hear your side of it either. Have you seen Anya?"

William licked his lips, and Lucien had to look away from the bulge in his pants.

"We just fought dirty in the training room. My guess is she is still there."

"Thanks." That explained the wounds. Lucien turned to go. "And next time, don't touch Anya."

"She can do all the touching, I don't mind." He heard William laugh and the volume went back up.

This was her chance. He was standing right there, talking to someone hidden in a room. She couldn't hear their conversation. She was too far up, plastered and curved into the domed ceiling, peeking through a gigantic chandelier. She was armed and ready with a dagger in hand. All she needed to do was drop down when he passed under her, slit his throat per the directions, and leave.

But, she only watched as he passed right under her. There was a smile of complete love and joy on his face that made his eyes twinkle. His head of curly black hair disappeared around the corner, and she let out a dismal sigh.

She shouldn't have hesitated.

She had a job, damn it! She told the guy his money was worth it. Just because the expression on his face made her all soft inside didn't mean a single damn thing. A job is a job is a job. Grow a backbone, she thought, as she slid away from the ceiling, and found footing on a ledge.

It was OK. She's had to stop many times before. Couldn't pull the trigger because the target suddenly moved from standing to sitting. In a matter of milliseconds for a traveling bullet, unexpected target movement meant live or die. So, she had to execute her plans carefully.

This just happened to be one of them.

She reached the corner of one ledge, and was going to jump over the camera to the next ledge, when she spotted two females and a baby coming out of the first room where Lucien had stopped at. She pinned herself against the cream-colored wall, as they started towards her. She couldn't move now.

The pretty blonde was cooing at the giggling baby in her arms. It was a girl, donned in a pink bodysuit. They were mother and daughter, she could tell by the strong resemblance in their faces. The brunette added her own babbling to the cooing, holding in her arms, a diaper, wipes, and a bottle.

The baby laughed, high-pitched, and waved her arms and legs around, thoroughly enjoying the attention she was getting. They were coming up close now. She could hear the camera rotating as it followed them. She was going to be in big trouble if the women were to pass right under her.

A couple more steps. She'll have to make a daring jump.

Suddenly, the baby locked eyes with her, cocked her head to one side in curiosity. She froze, dared not breathe nor blink as the baby's giggling filled the spacious hallway. The women were delighted at the abrupt glee, prompting her by tickling away at her stomach, but the baby continued to watch her.

The camera had also stopped moving, focused on the happy group below.

"What's going on out here?" A boisterous voice interrupted, and the women turned.

"William! Look!" Danika laughed, as William approached them. "Lucille won't stop giggling!"

William paused briefly when he thought he saw a shadow overhead. He looked up, but saw nothing. A colorful ceiling painted with images of angels and gods amidst clouds and stars. The antique chandelier gleamed brightly in the afternoon light coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The camera with its red blinking light was on him, and he gave a curt nod at Torin who was most likely keeping watch on all of them.

"What are you giggling about?" William's deep voice turned into one of nonsense jabbering, as he lifted the happily squealing Lucille from Ashlyn's arms. Lucille grabbed at his face, touching his eyes and nose and kicking delightfully as William held her up in the air. "All the girls are always happy to see the Willy, you know." He brought Lucille down for a peck on the cheek.

"William!" Ashlyn admonished, grinning. William was right, though. A good-looking thing like him was always a pleasure to see, especially during tense times. She watched, content, as William played with Lucille, bouncing her up and down in the air.

Lucien found Anya, fists swinging aggressively at a punching bag, in the training room. There was a look of annoyance and determination on her face as she swung punch after punch directly into it. When she was like this, he was both turned on and afraid to get in her way.

"I love you, you know that."

Anya directed another punch into the bag, dislodging it from the ceiling, and they both watched as it dropped with a heavy thud to the ground. She turned to face him.

"Then you would let me at her. This assassin of yours." She wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand.

"If I do that, I wouldn't have a talking head to answer any questions." He handed her a bottle of water, and she chugged it.

"You're right about that." She snickered. "I just don't like the thought of someone out there coming after you. It's dangerous enough as it is that we have Hunters on our tails. Add an assassin to that, you're a dead man, baby. I don't like that."

"Why would I be a dead man?" Lucien was annoyed that she had little faith in his capacity. He may not have the powers of the gods, but he was the protector of gods, and that was saying a lot.

"Well, you said so yourself that you've never seen anyone fight like her. She put both you and Amun down flat, and, baby, that's a first. I've never known you to go down that fast. Aeron couldn't even get a punch in, and he lost her too!" He watched Anya pick up a set of small throwing knives, test the tips with a finger, and threw them at a wooden block molded into a figure ten feet away. She smirked approvingly at the line of knives down the torso. "If you let me at her, I'll know what we're dealing with. Maybe I can take her."

He went over to her, and pulled her into his arms. She resisted, pushing him away at first, and then leaned into him.

"The thought of losing you is too painful. I can't let you." He whispered into her ear.

She sighed, and looked up at him, with tears brimming.

"I can't lose you either. It sucks that we don't know what we're up against. I'm scared for you. I really am. Why not the others? Why you?"

"Don't worry, baby." He kissed away the tears, touched by her worry. Anya barely showed any concern, she reserved those for only a select few. She had a way of loving him, of caring for him, but she never liked to show her apprehension over him. He loved her for that. She was a true warrior in every sense of the word. "The others should be coming back now. Let's go see if they've got anything."

They were quite an interesting bunch, she concluded, watching Lucien and a vibrant redhead walk arm in arm out of a very impressive training room. She itched to look in there, maybe snatch a few items to replenish, but she couldn't afford to be caught on camera.

Treading carefully, balancing on beams, swinging from corner to corner to get to the training room, all the while avoiding the cameras installed in various locations on the walls and ceilings was a feat.

You would think she was in a federal building of some sort, considering all the security measures. She thought it safer to stick to high ledges, where the camera was just out of range. Nobody looked up anyway, too busy focusing on their route to care. Well, except for that baby.

Cute baby, she admitted, remembering the way she smiled at her. It was definitely a sight to see the women with the baby. The most unexpected thing to see in a fortress built on a cliff side, on a mountain with booby traps just outside the doors. She was intrigued and curious. Partly the reason why she didn't kill him right away, regardless of the number of chances she had. She never asked a lot of questions when she was given an assignment. She only needed to know the basics: name, description, and location. Her rate was the same, no matter who it was. 100 pounds of gold. And she always delivered.

Now, all that was circling in her head were questions. Who were these fascinating men? Men who didn't die, but healed and stood as if they hadn't been stabbed? Why were they living in a fortress miles outside of town with bombs rigged every five paces apart up to the door? Who were these women living among such fascinating men? Were they also as interesting?

She watched, regulating her breath quietly, as the redhead and Lucien shared a heavy kiss that made her blush just before entering a set of double doors at the end of the hall.

Something crackled above her head, and she nearly yelped in surprise when a voice echoed off the walls.

"I see you." A deep, husky voice said. She reached for the scimitars on her back. "William." The voice barked. "You can't hide from this meeting. As much as you don't like putting your pretty face in danger, you're part of the family now."

She gulped back a sigh, and slowly released her grip on the sword.

A door slammed somewhere, and a tall man with honey blond hair appeared at the opposite end of the hall, stalking towards the room Lucien had just entered.

It was the man who had come to pick up the baby. She wasn't able to see him clearly the first time around before she had to make the leap across the beams. She admired the sharp features of his face. Pretty face, indeed. He huffed and puffed, clearly upset at having been called out, and marched into the room.

A few seconds later, the hall became abuzz. The two women she saw earlier came out, curled around the arms of very massive men, who were obviously enamored with them, listening intently as they described the day's event in minute detail.

She had seen only one of them in town before. The glossy black-haired man, he showed up one day with the angel and demon. She remembered him because his hair reminded her of raven's feathers. For a split second, she was envious and wanted to know what kind of shampoo he used.

Following behind them, another couple. A brunette with bouncy curls and a gorgeous body held hands with an equally gorgeous man. Golden brown eyes, brown hair. The two were like a perfect couple in appearance.

_You will fail_. She blinked, and looked around.

Where did that thought come from?

She heard no more when her eyes settled on the next group of men. A drop-dead beautiful woman with sad eyes walked among them, quietly. She had a sudden pang in her chest at the sight of her, and looked away.

They were all dressed in black, leather and cotton, some in satin. Very bland choice of color, she thought, but only a certain of type of people liked the color black. Only killers. Black muted the color of blood stains. The color black made people mysterious.

They passed under her, their voices low. She counted. Five women. One baby. Eleven men. She hadn't seen the demon or angel yet. And the voice that came over the intercom, she wasn't sure if he was among the group.

She spotted the angel. He was whistling to himself, a satisfied glow on his face, as he appeared from around the corner, loping in the direction the rest had gone. If she thought the first one had a pretty face, this one had a face that was beautiful. She couldn't get over how blue his eyes were. He walked with a mesmerizing lope, taking his time, careless or carefree of everything around him.

He stopped to look out the window with a longing in his eyes. But, it disappeared quickly, and he was on his way again. She suddenly had an image of being thrown passionately into bed by him. That was strange, she laughed to herself. He was cute, but not that cute. She couldn't imagine being thrown into bed by a man, anyway. The doors closed behind him.

So, that left the demon.

Aeron had just gotten out of the shower, and was pulling on some dark sweats, when he heard Torin's voice open on the intercom. He was taunting William, and that made him smile. The meeting would probably be underway by the time he got there. He was a man of action. He didn't like sitting around, discussing when he could be doing something useful.

Sitting around discussing an assassin they couldn't find was useless. At least, he allayed his demon. They had run into some Hunters and killed them off quickly, burning the dead, and dragging the half-alive ones back to the fortress.

He would question them later. The others depended on him to do that. It soothed his demon, so he preferred to do it anyway. He bent to tie his shoelaces, when he realized his room was too quiet.

"Legion?" He called.

No answer.

She must've gone back to hell. It wasn't unusual of her. She liked to disappear and appear at her own leisure. He never asked where she went, knowing that she was probably just back in the hole where he first met her.

He should be more nervous, but brushed that aside. Weakness was a useless trait. And he had long ago abandoned fear and weakness. He couldn't help but wonder if Legion had disappeared again because as she liked to say to him, _sssshe isssss near._ Whoever she was.

Again, no time to be wondering about a possible figment of someone's imagination. About someone who was near, watching him, when he had seen nothing for the past two weeks when Legion first mentioned it. Knowing Legion, it was most likely a figment of her jealous imagination.

Oh well. He had other things to worry about. Like this meeting he was late for.

There he was.

A smile worked its way to her mouth, and she frowned. What the hell was she smiling about?

Good eye candy, remember?

He had his hands buried in his black sweats, white sneakers at his feet. He wore a gray T-shirt with a picture of an eagle with wings spread across his muscled chest. She knew he had a muscled chest, she already saw it.

The thought of his wings made her tingle. They were beautiful, when she finally calmed down enough to look at them, while she was hanging some thousand feet up in the air. They were strong and beautiful.

His hair was buzzed short, reminding her of the standard military cut she saw on marines. She could see the tattoos snaking out from under his sleeves and ending at his wrists. He looked dangerous, she watched him swagger into the room, admiring the view from behind, deliciously dangerous.


End file.
